


the one

by hogarth14



Series: just friends, not lovers [3]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29200779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogarth14/pseuds/hogarth14
Summary: Part ThreeSam looks back on memories, some good, some he wishes he could forget. He feels bad about leaving you behind, but he's scared of confronting his own feelings.
Relationships: Chloe Frazer/Nadine Ross, Samuel Drake/Reader
Series: just friends, not lovers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123562
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	the one

**Author's Note:**

> and if my wishes came true / it would've been you /  
> in my defense, i have one / for never leaving well enough alone /  
> but it would've been fun / if you would've been the one

India

Sam didn't remember the last time he had pizza. Was it a week after he got out of prison? It definitely didn’t taste as good as it did at that moment. They’d saved the city, gave back to the people, and he probably helped Chloe find love. He did good.

But he didn’t feel all that _good_.

He couldn’t get the way you looked at him before he drove away out of his mind. He should’ve hugged you or said goodbye. _Damn it, Samuel_.

“So,” Chloe bit into her slice and stretched out the mozzarella. “What’s with you and that doctor?”

“Doctor?” Nadine raised an eyebrow. “Sam Drake has a someone?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe,” Chloe replied, erupting in laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Sam put up his hands in mock defeat. 

“But is there anything going on between you two?” Chloe persisted.

“No?” He quickly said, instantly regretting it. “Shit, yes… No… I don’t know.”

“How do you not know?” 

“We’re best friends,” Sam shrugged. “Who,” he glanced at Meenu. “Who hold hands.”

“But do you love this doctor?” Meenu piped in.

He looked at the little girl, her big bright eyes looking up at him in amusement and he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh. 

“That’s a big word,” he finished his pizza. “ _Love_.”

“Coward,” Nadine taunted.

“When did this become a counseling session? Can’t a man just enjoy his pizza without getting grilled about his lovelife? Jesus.”

“As a _friend_ , I just don’t want you missing out on a good thing,” Chloe poked him. 

“Thanks for the concern, but I’m old enough to confront my own feelings.”

“Old enough, but definitely not mature enough,” Meenu muttered.

“Hey, now you’re just hurting my feelings,” he laughed. 

“Don’t be a coward, Sam,” the little girl mimicked Chloe and poked him as well.

Chloe gave him a smug look and took another slice of pizza.

* * *

1978

“You’re leaving again?” Cassandra followed her husband to the door. 

Sam tiptoed to the nursery, where Nathan was left on the rug, playing with blocks. He sat in front of his baby brother and held up his stuffed bear that had an eyepatch to resemble the pirates in his picture books.

“Look at this, Nathan,” he made the bear dance in front of Nathan, who looked nervous as Cassandra and Frank’s voices got louder. “This is Henry. He’s a pirate.”

“Henry!” Nathan reached for the bear.

Sam closed the door to muffle the yelling outside. It was normal now, and even though he was just seven years old, he knew it wasn’t a good thing. 

“Why don’t you walk? It’ll be good for you!” Frank was saying.

He knew his mom was sick, but he didn’t know what was wrong. They didn’t ride airplanes or visit the nice lady anymore and Cassandra spent more time asleep than before.

Nathan was preoccupied with Henry when the front door slammed shut and soon after, they heard Cassandra’s footsteps as she ran to her bedroom.

“Mommy?” Sam found her under her blankets, sobbing.

“Oh, come here, honey,” she peered out at him and he crawled in under the blankets with her and Nathan. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby.”

“Are you feeling better, mommy?” Sam whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” she sniffled. She stared at her left hand for a while before slipping off her wedding ring. “Love is overrated.”

* * *

1987

“Right, so the cash register isn’t too hard to use,” Fred, the manager of the bookstore, led you around the back of the counter. He wasn’t that much older than you – he was probably 18 or 19 – and he stood tall and lanky as he punched buttons on the cash register. “You’ll have accountability for the accuracy of cash and charge transactions.”

“Okay,” you nodded, but you were distracted by a boy and a girl outside the shop. You recognised the boy as your coworker. Sam, was it?

“What’s going on out there?” You gestured towards the couple.

“Ah,” Fred simply glanced up. “Sam’s getting dumped. Again.”

Again? You watched as the girl was visibly upset with Sam while he tried to explain whatever it was he did wrong to her.

“I think you’re all caught up,” Fred gave you a pat on the back. “I have to go back to restocking that Stephen King book. Don’t worry about Sam too, this happens like, once a month.”

“Alright, thanks, Fred,” you busied yourself with rearranging the magazines in front of you, but you couldn’t help but glance up at Sam and the girl.

The conversation seemed to escalate and you clasped your hand against your mouth to suppress a loud gasp when she threw her milkshake at Sam’s face. She walked away in a huff and Sam stood there covered in strawberry milkshake. As he turned back to go inside the store, you looked down at the magazines again, pretending you weren’t just watching him get dumped.

“Shit,” he groaned as he tried to wipe his face clean.

“Geez, that looked rough,” you gave him an apologetic look.

Sam looked at you in confusion, wondering who you were.

“I’m the new hire,” you smiled. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Right…”

“Fred keeps an extra uniform in his locker if you wanna use it,” you shrugged. “I saw it when he gave me mine. Maybe you can ask him.”

“Nah, I’ll just pick it open,” Sam went to the back room.

Minutes later, he was back and clean of the milkshake. 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he smiled and nudged you.

“Don’t mention it. You don’t think he’ll notice it’s gone, do you?” You glanced over at Fred, who was assisting an elderly woman.

“Nah, I’ll put it back _before_ he even notices it’s gone.”

“Right,” you chuckled, turning away as a customer placed some books on the counter. Sam sat on a stool nearby and took out a book to read. _Treasure Island_.

“So, um,” you turned when the customer left. “What was that out there? If you wanna talk about it.”

“That was Mina,” he didn’t look up from his book. “My now ex-girlfriend.”

“Right, I can see that.”

“She was mad about me working too much.”

“Why? How much time do you spend at the bookstore?” 

“I don’t,” he flipped a page. “I work part-time at a garage after hours, fixing motorcycles and shit. Employment’s down, I’m barely getting by as it is. Also, I have shit luck when it comes to love.”

“I feel that. I think it runs in my family.”

“Did you just get dumped too?”

“Nah. My mom got tired of my dad so she ran off with a friend to Europe, then my dad fucked off to God-knows-where-ville.”

“Yeah, my dad fucked off too,” Sam laughed. “We have a lot in common, new kid.”

“I guess we do,” you smiled at him. 

* * *

You and Sam were lying on your stomachs side by side, elbow to elbow on your bed watching the _Angel Casas Show_ where A-Ha played a song.

“He has nice hair,” you pointed at the singer.

“You think I’d look good with longer hair?” Sam ran his hand through his hair. 

Your face scrunched up as you tried to imagine his hair longer. “Your hair’s too messy and greasy to look as nice as his. And you're not blond."

“Is it really that greasy? I swear I try to wash it all off after work,” he pouted.

“Hmm,” you reached over and tousled his hair. “On second thought, try growing it out. It might be cute.”

“Why, thank you for finally recognising my good looks.”

“Alright, don’t let it get to you,” you pushed him off the bed and rolled over, laughing.

Arthur appeared at the door with his hands on his hips. “It’s late and I just want some goddamn rest. Time to go home, young man.”

“Hey, how’s it going, Art?” Sam winked.

“Go home,” Arthur sighed and walked away.

“I guess that’s my cue.”

You watched as Sam searched for his jacket and put it on. He stood in front of the mirror and touched his hair again, trying to style it differently. 

“You really think I’d look good with longer hair?” He frowned at his reflection, annoyed that he could never get his hair to behave.

“Yeah, I guess so,” a corner of your mouth lifted into a small smile. You liked hanging out with Sam, and you didn’t know why you started thinking about him more whenever you weren’t together anymore.

“Don’t fall in love with me when I become even more irresistible,” Sam laughed as he climbed out of the window. He leaned in again with a lopsided grin on his face. “I mean it.”

You threw a stuffed animal at him. “Dream on, Sam. That’s grody to the max.”

* * *

Present Day

Sam ran his fingers through his hair as he stood outside your door. He’s been debating whether he wanted to go through with this and after a lot of failed attempts at calling you, he ended up at your doorstep. 

_Fuck it_ , he thought as he knocked. No answer.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Open the damn door.”

“Sam?” You called behind him. 

Sam whipped around to see you walking up the steps with another person. Could it be?

“Fred?” He lifted an eyebrow. Fred was still tall and lanky, but his red hair was tied back in a low ponytail. 

“If it isn’t Samuel Morgan,” Fred beamed.

“It’s Drake now,” Sam replied under his breath.

“Are you hurt, Sam?” You moved closer, inspecting his face. He had a cut on his nose, his lip, a bruise on his forehead and his hand was bandaged up. 

“What the hell happened to your face?” Fred asked.

“I… fell,” Sam gave Fred a dirty look. “I’m fine.”

“Spare me the theatrics, Samuel,” you pushed past him and opened the door. “Come in.”

You grabbed his arm and led him to your sofa where he sat down with a grunt. His jaw clenched and he twiddled with his fingers while you went to grab your first aid kit.

“I have to go get ready,” Fred stood by the door. “Thanks for today. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

“Of course,” you nodded. “See you then.”

“Hope you get better, Sam,” he nodded at the man on your sofa. “I’d like to catch up sometime.”

“Sure, Freddie boy,” Sam faked a smile.

As soon as the front door closed, you angrily turned back to Sam who tried to avoid your eyes. You unwrapped the bandage on his hand and saw that he had a cut on his palm and a bunch of bruises on his knuckles.

“Hold on,” you sighed and got up to put a bag of peas on his hand.

After you’d cleaned his wounds and bandaged his hand up again, you sat back and rubbed your temples. You didn't know how to deal with him anymore.

“Take care of yourself, Sam,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” he looked at the bandage on his hand and closed his fist as much as he could. “Thanks again.”

You looked up as Sam stood. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “This was a mistake. I didn’t mean to barge in on whatever it is you have with Fred.”

“Huh?” You sat up. “What are you talking about?”

“He did have the hots for you back then, I guess it just makes sense.”

“Wait,” you laughed as you stood up. “Do you think Fred and I are a thing?”

“I–” Sam held up a finger to say something, but he bit his lip as realisation dawned on his face.

“Sam, I’m a doctor. His pregnant _wife_ is my patient,” you crossed your arms.

“Oh…”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Sam pressed his lips together as he moved closer to you. “I’m sorry that was stupid.”

You turned away in frustration, doing your best not to just throw Sam out, but he seemed like he wanted to say something.

"Can you at least tell me what's on your mind?"

“God, Sam. Right now I just have all these _what ifs_ playing around in my head, like what if you didn’t disappear, what if we stayed together, what if we didn’t have that fight before you left for India? It might’ve been fun, we might’ve been good together.” You pointed a finger at him. “But that’s all there is with you, is there? _What if?_ ”

“I was scared, okay?” Sam put his hands up. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Ever.”

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes. 

“I’ve never done this before,” he took your hand. “I…”

Sam froze up, his chest rising and falling as he tried to find the words to say. _Don’t be such a coward_ , he told himself. He’s been at the end of the barrel of plenty of guns, nearly died at the hands of so-called “doctors”, lived at the mercy of a rich psychopath, but he couldn’t even say the word _love_.

“Sam?” Your eyes bore into his.

“I…” He repeated.

Instead, he pulled you in and kissed you. It felt different from the usual, quick kisses he usually gave. It was a soft kiss and he cupped your cheek gently as you melted into his arms. There was an urgency in the kiss, almost like he was desperate to tell you how much he needed this. How much he needed you.

Your eyes were still closed when Sam slowly pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve left well enough alone.”

Before he turned away, you took his hand and he turned back to look at you. 

“Don’t go,” you pulled at his hand. 

“I’m trying… I want to say it,” he let out a breath.

He kissed you again, hoping you understood the message. _I love you, damnit._

“I know, Sam,” you kissed his unbandaged hand. “I know.”

“Friends?” He leaned his forehead on yours and you laughed.

“Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> the end ;__;


End file.
